Now that the boss was home, it was time to get ready for dinner! The cats got two kinds of food, and each cat had a different favorite. They had made their preferences known over the years, and they were familiar with the boss' serving technique. First the wet food, then the dry food.
James, a handsome tuxedo cat with a substantial pink belly, loved wet food. He didn't care what kind. He would meow loudly and happily and stand where the bowls with the wet food would go. He would wait, sometimes patiently, sometimes not, as the boss got dinner ready. Sometimes, he would put little toys in with his wet food. One time, the boss had walked into the kitchen to find him lying on his back, his head resting in his food bowl, lazily scooping food into his mouth with his paw, a toy fish sitting next to the bowl, silent witness to the whole, disgusting display.
Donald was a fluffy, very round, gray cat with white socks and a white chin. He loved dry food, and would stand where the bowls with the dry food would go, meowing and chirping expectantly. He was more interested in eating, and had no time for toy-in-food-dish shenanigans. A sensitive little soul, his eyes would light up when he heard the rattle of dry food in its bin.
This was a time of great excitement, and the boss would talk quietly, perhaps to herself, perhaps to the cats, as she measured out their dinner and made sure that each bowl had an equal amount of food in it. It never mattered. Sometimes they would go to separate dishes, sometimes they would share a dish. There were never any little disagreements during dinnertime.